Problematic Programmatic Thesis
by ZePuKa
Summary: When a Computer Graphics graduate student chooses Sugar Rush as his programming thesis, Vanellope wonders if she'll ever see her friends again, and if they'll still accept her after the massive changes the programmer is inflicting on the game are applied. With Vanellope gone, will Ralph be able to cope & resist the urge to vandalize the new game that's taken her place?
1. Prologue: Midnight Black

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original characters in Wreck It Ralph, they are owned by Disney, and I do not own the cameo characters from other games. These are owned by their respective company creators. Any other mention of Computer hardware / software is also not owned by me, but by the companies that patented / manufactured them. Any plot points and/or original characters of mine bearing resemblance to those belonging to others or to real life events and/or people is purely coincidental.

**Rating:** T to be safe. The Rating is more to declare the intended target audience, though I strive for keeping my writing clean enough for most all audiences, while still being entertaining. You can expect something like the following: No cursing (as defined by American culture. If cursing is necessary for a character, I tend to make up my own explicative vocabulary to suit said character); No adult themes (Minus the occasional mild innuendo, any sexual themes you may pick up were not intentional while I was writing it. There will be no explicit scenes nor 'build up' for such scenes.); Occasional intense action violence, but no more than mild descriptions of injuries sustained so no gore will be described. Death/Deletion may be discussed, and may even occur, but will not be covered in detail.

**A/N:** Thank you all for bearing with me as I first got those legalities out of the way, and for choosing to check out my story! I hope you all enjoy it! Please feel free to review / PM any feedback you may have on this story and/or my writing skills, all critiques are welcome. I only ask that if your feedback is negative, rather than 'flaming', please leave whatever tips you feel will help me to correct the negative aspects you see in my writing. If your feedback is to guess where the story may go, or to make suggestions for the same, I ask that you send that in a PM, so there will be no spoilers revealed to the audience that may be reading the reviews. Once again, thank you for reading and enjoy!

* * *

**Prologue: ****Midnight Black**

The same black expanse that always occupied the skies inside the cabinet of Fix-It Felix Jr. surrounded Ralph as he gazed out from atop the roof of the penthouse. From all appearances, there was nothing unusual or out of place this night, save a little pile of bricks comparable to the height of a Nicelander that he was standing on; but everything else, from the building itself, to the surrounding grounds and gardens, and even to the window in the sky was all the same. Yet… tonight's sky felt uncharacteristically more… _suffocating_. Claustrophobia had never been a problem before; after all, whenever he found himself in a small enclosed space, he would just wreck it. Unfortunately the walls pressing in around him now were intangible and painted midnight black. There was no way out.

The glimmer of other arcade games flashing through the skylight had been tempting him to look up, like a siren of light amidst the darkness of his game. Yet he dared not look up; he dared not search through the shooting starlights of other arcade games for the only light he cared about, the light of his life. Despite his best efforts, Ralph could no longer resist the magnetic pull of the skylight, and, after all, this _was_ the best vantage point, the same place he was in at the end of every Fix-It Felix Jr. game, right before he was tossed over the side to careen into the mud. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the light radiating in from the skylight, they automatically focused on the spot over by the Whack-A-Mole; the _empty _spot over by the Whack-A-Mole.

All at once the darkness pressed in around him all the more, and a wrenching emotion from deep within him fought to burst forth in any way it could, none of which he was willing to succumb to. Any reaction would force him to acknowledge that this was real, to let go of the hope that this was all just a horrid nightmare. "Van-", he blurted in a moment of weakness, cutting himself off as he regained control. He couldn't let this darkness win, pressing as it was.

* * *

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Calhoun wondered aloud as she gazed out the window of the top level of the penthouse – her shared bedroom with her husband.

"Hm?" Felix responded as he fumbled with his belt buckle.

"He's been up on the roof for so long now."

"What? When did he go up there?"

The sergeant resisted the urge to tease her rather dense husband on his lack of tactical and observational skills, as now hardly seemed the time or place for that. "I heard the elevator groaning as it transported him and a pile of bricks up a couple hours ago", she replied simply.

"Oh… Well, hard labor is probably just his way of coping. I wouldn't worry too much about him though. I've worked with him for over 35 years now and I've never once seen him cry. He's too tough for that", he rambled as he tried to escape from the shirt he'd pulled over his head, but couldn't quite get all the way off.

Unable to suppress a little chuckle at her husband's clumsiness, Tamora strode over to help him finish getting ready for bed, pushing her worry for Ralph to the back of her mind. "Yeah, I suppose you're right…"

Once they were both ready, she stole one last glance out the window, and suddenly ran back to it in surprise. "Felix, you never told me your game had a rain program!" When she didn't hear a response, she turned her head around to see if he'd fallen asleep already, but what she saw brought her worry back to the forefront of her mind. The look on her husband's face explained all; that face that had only moments ago told her not to worry was now wrought with worry itself.

"It doesn't…"

* * *

**A/N:** On a more personal note, this is the first fanfiction I've written in a loooong time. In fact, it's the first creative writing I've attempted in a loooong time. So I apologize for being so rusty… So what you just read was the prologue to the Wreck-It Ralph fanfiction idea I had, so this posting is more of a pitch to see if there'd be any interest in it, so please review and feel free to let me know whatever you think, be it "Yeah, go ahead and write it!" or "Boo, it sucks, don't ever write again!"


	2. Sweet Twentieth

**Reviewer Responses**

_Doodle0505_ – On the one hand, I'm glad you were entertained, but on the other, the last part was meant to be much more depressing… guess I failed on that, crap.

_Sakura Scout_ – oh whoops, didn't consider that it might be misleading in that way. Though for all intensive purposes, she may as well be, in Ralph's mind… dun dun dun…

_Others_ – Thanks for your support! As requested, here's another chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 1**: Sweet Twentieth

_One Week Earlier…_

"Ooooo I'm so ready to tear this track up!" Vanellope squealed to no one in particular as she stepped out onto the familiar taffy track. It was glistening beneath her feet with the same luscious luster it always had. The track showed no such signs of the excessive usage, despite the abuse it had gotten from two decades and twelve go-karts. The self-proclaimed 'president' of this track inhaled deeply and let the sweet sugary aroma of it all seep into her soul, pumping her spirit of excitement up all the more.

Scanning the crowd of various candy citizens and outsider characters from other games that were gathering in the bleachers to watch the race, Vanellope sighed lightly when she didn't spot the person she had been scanning for. Suddenly she wasn't so pumped to race as she had been just a moment ago. Slapping a smile back on her face, she made sure to wave at her other guests when she spotted them before turning and striding over to her go-kart.

"What's eatin' ya?" a short platinum blond-headed racer inquired – a slightly cannibalistic statement for the world of Sugar Rush, given most of the inhabitants of the world were indeed edible – before popping her usual lollipop back into her mouth.

"Oh, uh… nothing", Vanellope lied, avoiding eye contact.

"You're not fooling anyone, President V., especially not me", the blond shot back with a smirk.

"Ughhh. I'll tell ya later, Taffyta. For now, just prepare to get your taffy tush whipped as I beat you in the race!"

"You're the one who's gonna be whipped creamed and licorice lashed", Taffyta rebutted as she hopped into her pink kart.

Vanellope would have made a comeback if the announcer hadn't started blaring over the loudspeaker, "Ladies and Gentlebeans, welcome to Sugar Rush's 20th anniversary roster race! Instead of the usual roster race, we'll be conducting this one as a tournament over three different courses to celebrate this auspicious day! Racers, to your marks!"

With that, Vanellope made one last scan of the crowd then ran a hand over the hardened icing detail on her kart that read "Ralph". 'Why aren't you here?' she thought to herself, then told herself to snap out of it and pay attention to the race. She jumped into her kart and started up the engine as a familiar song started blaring "S-U-G-A-R jump into your racing car…"

* * *

Ralph squinted as light poured over his eyelids, rousing him from a deep – and rather needed – slumber. Yawning and stretching, he mulled over his to-do list for the day, and as a stretch strained a knot in his back, he winced as he remembered the tasks of yesterday. Ever since they had introduced the 'Unplugged Program', business had been busy in Fix-It Felix Jr. and wrecking thousands of bricks and windows for 12 hours straight each day wasn't exactly a walk in the park – Not to mention the multi-story fall at the end of each go. Barely a day went by that he didn't use most – if not all – his spare time when the arcade was closed just to sleep it off. That is, when he wasn't using it to build new houses for the new recruits or to act as a head hunter when there wasn't enough room for them in the Fix-It Felix Jr. game.

After rumors of the games' new bonus level success spread, characters flocked to them when they were unplugged, all seeking employment. Some of the other games with extra memory space had also bought into the gig, seeking to boost their popularity as well to avoid getting unplugged themselves. There was even an exchange program now, where all the unplugged characters would game hop to help all the older, unpopular games out. The results were rather satisfactory, as now the only unplugged games were the ones who could not be fixed when a piece of hardware broke. Rather than being junked when a game was old and rarely played, the interest in all the games was kept up with the new cameo dynamics on bonus levels, so less games were unplugged overall. In fact, Litwak's had become so popular over the last five years, he'd been forced to add a second floor to his arcade to house all the old games as well as the new games he would get. Indeed, many competing arcades had hounded Litwak for his secret to success, but he remained tight-lipped and claimed it was a trade secret, if for no other reason than to mask the fact that he had no idea how it all happened either.

As founder of such a successful program, Ralph always had his hands full, despite their enormous size. Taxing, for sure, but rewarding. He, who was always the villain on-screen, was now the hero to hundreds of unplugged characters, and well-liked by nearly all games in the arcade. It was just the new games he sometimes had issues with. They were too young, naïve, and arrogant to realize they may just need his help one day.

Forcing himself to get out of bed, Ralph strode over to his work area, which was cluttered with all sorts of paperwork concerning the aforementioned program – documents stating which characters were where, possible future placements, papers detailing Litwak's operating schedule, etc. He really needed to start outsourcing, he mused to himself, dreading the process of actually going through all those papers. He'd heard of outsourcing companies in India, but there was also rumors that they can be hard to communicate with, and the only world wide web connection at the arcade was in the "Litwak's Photobooth" installed 3 years ago, and talking with Kitty was a pain in the…

Ralph's thoughts were interrupted as his eyes snapped to an entry penned in red on his calendar that read, "4AM: Vanellope's 20th Anniversary Tournament. DO NOT MISS". Scrambling for his alarm clock, Ralph nearly crushed it as he grabbed hold of it and noted in agony that the time was now 4:36 and counting. Grateful that he always slept in his overalls, Ralph ran straight through the nearest wall without a moments delay, nearly bowling over a Nicelander or two as he bolted to the train station. Unfortunately this resulted in his overalls being coated in brick dust and glazed with pie filling – hopefully the Nicelander who made it wouldn't be too cross about that… or too flat. Whoever programmed him really should have taken into account how invisible the Nicelanders could be to him, considering they were so short and little, and he was so… not.

Grand Central Station was left deserted – probably due to the fact that most of the arcade was at Sugar Rush, and wouldn't leave until they were, uh… desserted. Ralph exited the Fix-It Felix Jr. tunnel, only to be stopped by Surge. "Aw, come on, really? I'm in a hurry, can't you just skip this for once!?" the villain pleaded to the unmoving, emotionless guard.

* * *

Vanellope swerved as a cherry bomb crossed her path and she noticed it a moment too late to avoid it safely. She was sent careening into a giant gumdrop she supposed she should be grateful to for stopping her velocity before she got too far from the track – didn't mean she was any less happy about the crumpled fender and whiplash. "Snap out of it, V!" Minty called as she zoomed by in a green blur.

"Great, now I'm last place" the sidelined racer grumbled, attempting to start the stalled kart. Much to her chagrin, it refused to start. "GRRYYAHHH!" she screamed, exasperated. This must mean she'd exceeded her number of allotted crashes for the round, hence why the game hadn't automatically reset her car to pristine condition. She'd have to sit the rest of this one out. Defeated and mentally kicking herself for zoning out through the entire tournament, Vanellope clicked on her car's radio communicator. "Hey Chief, I need a tow…"

* * *

Once Surge had finally let him pass, Ralph bounded across Grand Central station to the entrance for Sugar Rush, and – wouldn't you know it – got stopped once again by Surge. 'Some things never change', Ralph mentally noted in annoyance, and briefly entertained the idea of wrecking Surge, if he were actually material. Finally able to enter the Sugar Rush tunnel, Ralph boarded the 'Choco-Choo-Choo' - as the train proudly called itself on its chocolate drizzle inscription – and waited anxiously for it to depart.

The sight that greeted him at the other end of the tunnel wasn't encouraging. A whole crowd of characters from other games in the arcade were waiting to board, deep in conversation concerning the events of the race that was apparently now over. His heart sank deeper than the surrounding conversations, prodding him to elbow his way a tad roughly through the crowd with one objective: To find Vanellope and profusely beg for forgiveness.

* * *

"What's wrong with Vanellope?" Minty asked as she approached Taffyta, who was currently beaming in her victory.

"I'm not entirely sure, but she better get over it fast, I refuse to accept such an easy victory as worthy of my time and skill"

"Do you know she wiped out on the Twizzler turn? I saw her wreck her kart when I passed her. She never caught up either"

This changed the usually smug expression on Taffyta's face to that of true concern. Sure enough, a quick survey of her surroundings verified Minty's declaration. All racers and karts were accounted for, save Vanellope's. "But… she ALWAYS nails that turn"

"I know. Do you think we should call a quick presidential council with all the other racers to address this? If she's caught a bug, it could put the whole game out of order", Minty advised.

"You really think it could be a bug?" Taffyta pressed, truly hoping it wasn't. A bug could spell death for any game, and Sugar Rush had already had its own run in with 'bug's – albeit legitimately coded Cy-bugs – and at twenty years of age, Litwak probably wouldn't invest the money to fix them, popular though they were. Too old to be under warranty, too young to be a collectible.

"She came in dead last; didn't even finish. Something must be DIABETCIALLY wrong."

Worried that Minty's vocabulary blunder might actually not be too far from the truth, and resisting the urge to verbally correct her with a 'I think you mean DIABOLICALLY', Taffyta merely nodded her agreement and gave orders to assemble the other racers, and left to find Sour Bill herself with a petition to open the presidential council, ASYRUP – er, ASAP.

* * *

Successfully breaking through the crowd, Ralph scanned the finish line for his favorite licorice-haired racer; to no avail. Vanellope was nowhere in sight.

"Ralph!" a familiar voice called, though deeper and not as sweet as the voice he wanted to hear. Turning to address the call, Ralph hailed Felix and Tamora as they approached.

Too upset at the moment to worry about friendly formalities, Ralph got right to the point, "Why didn't you guys wake me up?"

Felix opened his mouth to answer, but seemed to think better of it and just stood there with a shamed demeanor. The sergeant stepped in instead and answered, "For starters, the last one who tried to wake you up almost ended up a brick-bun hamburger"

She had a point, Ralph had to admit, but still, Calhoun was certainly made of tough enough stuff to handle anything he could dish.

As if reading his thoughts, Calhoun continued, "I tried to wake you myself, but short of putting a bullet through your thick skull, you were unresponsive. I wasn't able to try too long either, or we would've missed the race as well, and to have none of us there before she started the race may have crushed her spirits into candy cane dust."

Thinking he could've done without the sergeant's blunt metaphors, he swallowed his pride and accepted his mistake, choosing to change the direction of the conversation, "So, where is she now?"

"She wiped out back at the Twizzler turn; they're getting together a service crew now to go fetch her. Now don't stand there like a blundering idiot, go get her yourself and prepare yourself for a barrage of tantrums, and take them like a man!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Ralph responded out of habit – he'd befriended the soldiers of Hero's Duty, and their behavior around the Sergeant was a bit contagious.

Without another word, Ralph jogged down the track in the direction of Twizzler turn, shouting out "Don't worry, I got this guys!" as he passed the pit crew that was heading there themselves to clean up the wreckage.

* * *

Vanellope sniffed back a few tears of self-pity as she sat on the back of her go-kart, swinging her dangling legs impatiently, waiting for the 'rescue crew'.

Catching a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye, she turned her head that direction and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve to clear her vision. What – or rather _who_ - she saw made her face beam, until she remembered that she was supposed to be upset with him. When she remembered why, she started to boil with anger so much the candy in her hair started to melt.

"Hey – kid – you – ok?" Ralph asked in-between gasps as he tried to regain his breath on approach.

Not trusting herself to speak without bursting into tears, Vanellope just gave a "Hmph!" as she crossed her arms and turned away.

"Look, Kid – Vanellope -, I'm REALLY sorry I missed your race. I really wanted to be here, I did, I just, somehow… managed to… oversleep… a little" Ralph apologized sheepishly.

"Oh, so I'm just that boring!?" Vanellope vented, still keeping her face turned away.

"What!? No! I don't think you're boring at all! You're one of the most interesting people I know! I'm just a little tired from work…"

"Work, work, work, you're ALWAYS working! You're ALWAYS missing my races! You hardly ever come to see me, I never get to see your poopy face, Stinkbrain!" Vanellope's eyes were welling up with tears again with the conclusion of that statement, but she was still turned the other way, grateful that Ralph hadn't made a move to turn her around as of yet.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'll try in the future to come more often, I've been really considering training some people to help out with my work load so I'll have more free time to-"

"But you already missed THIS race, my twentieth anniversary tournament! EVERYONE in the arcade was there! Everyone but – " She had meant to say 'The person I care about most', but decided against it – both because it seemed too mushy gushy, and because she didn't think she could choke out that many more words before she would burst out sobbing - and finished off instead with "- you".

Ralph wisely remained silent as the impact of her accusations sunk in. They didn't sit well with him; it felt like a rock in his stomach was reaching up and choking him from inside as he realized what great pain he just caused his dear little friend. It was in this silence that he picked up on soft noises Vanellope was making; soft noises that suspiciously sounded like suppressed tears.

"Vanellope…" He whispered in pained tones, his face crinkling in remorse, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what else I can say to apologize". So instead, he bent down and scooped her up into his arms for a long, slightly sticky, hug.

* * *

**A/N**: I have a couple questions for you readers! I'm really none too pleased with the title for this story, so I'll be taking suggestions for a new title until one strikes my fancy. Also, a small mention was made to a character named "Kitty'. She will be an OC you'll meet either in the next chapter or the one after, but I've been going back and forth trying to decide if she should be human, or an actual… kitty…. I feel the kitty would be a bit more comedic, and goodness knows with how depressing the characters have been so far, the story could stand to have some more comic relief characters. However on the flip side, I also need the character to be taken seriously at times, and I'm not sure that would be possible if she's a cat. Thoughts?

And on a side note, I didn't mean to be so depressing and end all the chapters so far in tears T.T


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